


Suck On That

by ObscureReference



Series: A Pain in the Neck [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, But still some romantic ties, M/M, Mostly Gen, Underage Drinking, Vampires, briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chowder is not saying he thinks Dex is a vampire, because that would be ridiculous. But also, he's like 95% sure Dex is a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suck On That

**Author's Note:**

> Every fandom needs that dumb vampire au and I'm here to supply it. Also, somebody please tell me why I always feel compelled to write stories in Chowder's perspective as present tense even though I like past tense so much more, because I can't explain it. 
> 
> Yeah, this is just Dex/Chowder and not polyfrogs like I usually do, but I am also writing a just Nursey/Chowder fic too, so I think that evens it out. I may also write Nursey/Dex by themselves one day, but I like to cater to the less abundant pairings first. Not that it's out the window. I just take ideas as they come. 
> 
> This fic didn't come out exactly how I pictured it and it feels kind of weird to me for some reason? But that could also be just because I wrote it, and since I couldn't find anything particularly wrong with it, I've decided to post it anyway. Vampire aus are always weird. Feel free to point out any mistakes I may have missed.
> 
> Anyway, here you go.

Chowder is not saying he thinks Dex is a vampire, because that would be ridiculous.

But also, he's like 95% sure Dex is a vampire.

\----------

The first time it happens, Chowder doesn't think anything of it.

Everyone's gathered around the TV in the living room watching a game. Chowder sits on the floor because he knows Bitty would be appalled at him sitting on the couch, even though Ransom, Holster and Shitty are sitting on it like it's no big deal. Dex somehow snagged the lone armchair and Chowder leans against his leg for back support. Bitty's flitting in and out of the kitchen, checking on this or that, and Chowder thinks Jack might be upstairs. It's a still early in the evening, but Dex keeps odd hours sometimes and that's why Chowder isn't surprised when he starts yawning.

Around the fifth time Dex yawns, some of the other boys catch on.

"What, Dex," Ransom says. "The game isn't exciting enough for you?"

Onscreen, somebody scores and even though Chowder can't see who it is, Holster cheers so loudly and excitedly that he nearly knocks Ransom in the face with his fist. It's only Ransom's quick instincts that save him at the last second.

"Nah, it isn't that," Dex says. "I just had a late night."

Chowder tilts his head back just in time for Dex to yawn again. He covers his mouth, of course, but Chowder is just at the right angle to see the space in-between Dex's palm and his mouth. Something catches in the light and Chowder jerks his head back down so fast that Dex nudges him with his foot.

"You alright there, man?"

Chowder forces himself not think about it.

"Yeah!" He says, maybe grinning a little too much. Dex raises an eyebrow, but looks away.

He thinks he saw, maybe— No. That would be silly. It was just a trick of the light.

Another team scores and this time when Holster cheers, he really does hit Ransom in the face. Shitty pats Ransom on the back and laughs. Dex nudges Chowder with his shoe again and lets it rest there.

\-----------

The next time something strikes him as off, Chowder, Nursey and Dex are strolling up the street toward the Haus. It's still early in the afternoon and the air is still just on the right side of warm to be comfortable. Nursey and Dex are arguing, but it's an easy going back and forth, the kind that Chowder doesn't feel he needs to step in on out of fear of a brawl.

"I'm just saying, if you get sick again, I'm going to be seriously pissed off," Dex is saying as Chowder hops over a puddle. "I'm serious."

Nursey snorts and taps Dex lightly in the shoulder with his knuckle. "Yeah, bro. Like I chose to get sick."

"You wouldn't if you didn't hang out in the wet grass all the time. During Autumn. In _Massachusetts_."

"I do not hang out in wet grass all the time."

"I've seen you by the Pond."

"You been watching me, Poindexter?"

That makes Dex sputter, face going red and Chowder laughs, because it's not a secret Nursey likes to hang out by the Pond or anywhere outdoors whenever he gets the chance. Chowder has seen him out there a million times as well, just like everyone else on the team— But the way Nursey says it makes it sound like Dex is some sort of mother hen, personally checking on Nursey and noting down all the times he gets too close to the water.

Eventually, Dex collects himself.

"I bet you're the kind of weirdo who would enjoy that kind of thing," he manages to say and Nursey only smirks. "Also, pick up the pace already. You walk like a tortoise and Bitty's making cinnamon rolls. I want to actually get there before Ransom and Holster eat them all."

Ransom and Holster are notorious for tag-teaming Bitty's cooking when the he's not looking and devouring every bite of pastry goodness they can before Bitty warns them to save some for the others. But that's not what makes Chowder pause.

"Wait." Chowder checks his phone, because Bitty usually tells him if he's doing something extra special. But, no, he doesn't have any missed texts or calls. "How do you know that?"

Dex only glances at him. "Can't you smell it? "

They're halfway up the street now. The Haus is in sight, but even with the breeze, all Chowder can smell is the crisp, cool air. Even Nursey raises an eyebrow at that.

"Bro," Nursey says. "There's no way you can smell that."

Dex shrugs and Nursey lets it go after some light teasing about canine noses and phantom scents, but when they make it to the Haus, they all find that Dex is right;  Bitty is just pulling out a tray of cinnamon buns when the three of them step in to the Haus.

Nursey knocks Dex's shoulder with his own.

"Nice sniffer, Poindexter," he says, before snatching one of the rolls off the plate. It's still piping hot and Nursey obviously didn't think it through, because he drops it on the floor immediately. Nursey shoves his hand under the cold water from the tap while Bitty chastises him, talking about food safety and how he hadn't even put the glaze on yet.

Chowder isn't listening. He's looking at Dex instead, who just tosses his backpack off to the side and shrugs. He catches Chowder's eye, and for a second Chowder is at a loss for words.

"If we help Bitty glaze them, do you think he'll give us extra?" Chowder manages after a moment. Dex glances between Chowder and the tray conspiratorially. 

"It's worth a shot," he agrees. Chowder follows him in to the kitchen.

It turns out that Bitty _does_ give them extra if they help. He sets a pair cinnamon buns on three different plates and tells them to finish them up before the others suspect anything. He's making a second batch anyway, just like they knew he would. Chowder eats his first roll in a rush, even though it's still a little too warm, because Bitty's cooking is always best hot. He takes his time with the second one, watching Nursey unravel his own roll from the from the outside moving in, waiting for him to drop something and definitely not thinking about Dex.

\----------

Chowder doesn't consider it. Not really. It's not like vampires are the huge threat they were considered a few hundred years ago.

Stuff like Dracula really perpetuated some bad stereotypes about vampires, so he knows people can't be, like, _out_ about it. Chowder doesn't think Samwell has a code about vampires as students like some schools do, but even as liberal as it is, he's sure there are a lot of people who would have a problem with it. Some places make it mandatory for vampires to register themselves with the city, and he knows vampires are the first ones suspected of a crime, whether the crime shows evidence of vampirism or not.

Hate crimes _against_ vampires are still a thing he sees on the news occasionally, but Chowder is pretty sure that deaths from actual blood sucking are way down from what they were in the Middle Ages now that there are alternative methods to that kind of thing. Blood banks and stuff, even if some people refuse to donate blood out of the small chance their blood will help a vampire survive. He's never understood that kind of spite.

Anyway, Chowder doesn't really consider it. Because even though it's not like people can just come out and say, "Hey, I'm a vampire," and expect everyone around them to be cool with it, the chances of somebody Chowder actually knows being a vampire are about 1 in 50. And Chowder has never met a vampire or really thought about it very much? But he thinks it would probably be fine, so long as they were the kind of person to drink blood out of bags or animals and not, like, murder somebody. Because vampires really are people. They just need a different kind of diet. Like vegetarians and stuff.

So he doesn't really consider Dex being a vampire a real possibility. At first.

\----------

And the thing is, Chowder can brush that stuff off. He can ignore how Dex can smell Bitty's cooking when Chowder can't or how well Dex sees in the dark when the Haus's power goes out, (because the Haus is "a piece of shit," as the rest of the team calls it.) He can even ignore it when Dex keeps really late hours, because that's just how college students are, and when Dex gets really focused on his work, he _really_ focuses on his work. That's just how he is.

It's easy to brush everything off as an exaggeration or his own head messing with him. Dex is funny and nice and gives Chowder his jacket when it's too cold, sometimes. So he doesn't think about it.

It's very hard to ignore _this_.

They're watching a movie in Dex's room, and it's late. Chowder has no idea where Dex's roommate is, but he doubts they're coming back anytime soon, given how busy Dex says they are. The only options for furniture are the wooden chairs at the desks or Dex's bed, so Chowder chooses the bed.

It's only a twin xl, so they're both squished pretty close together, shoulder against shoulder, which made Dex all weird and tense at first. But then the movie just kept playing, and as more time passed where Chowder didn't do anything except watch the movie, Dex had slowly relaxed.

Their arms are pressed together from shoulder to elbow and they're close enough that Chowder can hear the way Dex breaths under the whir of the laptop. It's nice.

Dex's dorm room is dark. They started watching _Transformers_ before the sun set, and neither of them had bothered to flip the light switch when the last of the sunlight had faded from the window. Dex and Chowder's faces are only illuminated by the bright light of the laptop screen. The brightness of it makes Chowder's eyes burn, but he doesn't want to get up.

When they had first laid down, Dex had cross his arms over his chest, but about halfway through the movie, he had shifted. He had relaxed, inch by inch, until his hands had fallen low enough to brush Chowder's thigh. Every now and again his fingers twitched at some on-screen explosion, but they always settled back in place. Chowder can feel the heat of Dex's fingers through his jeans. Dex doesn't look at him. Chowder doesn't move.

They're so close together it's nearly impossible for Chowder to mistake what he's seeing when Dex yawns, even in the darkness. Dex yawns like a cat at first, slow and easy, mouth wide. Relaxed. But then suddenly Dex throws a hand over his face, like he remembered at the last second to be polite and now he's scrambling in hopes Chowder doesn't think he's rude.

Chowder doesn't think Dex is rude. But he also doesn't think that's why Dex covered his mouth.

The walls are inky from the lack of light, but Chowder knows what teeth are when he sees them, even out of the corner of his eye. And in the darkness, Dex has very long canines.

Although he doesn't want to, the sight makes Chowder tense up. He feels Dex tense up too, even though neither of them are looking at each other. He tries to focus on the movie, and after a moment, Chowder manages to relax. Eventually Dex does the same. They don't say anything until, onscreen, Shia LaBeouf tries to convince his parents that no, there was no girl in his room, jeez. It makes Dex snort. His middle and pointer fingers tap the upper half of Chowder's thigh and Chowder grins back at him.

The evidence is getting kind of hard to ignore at this point.

\-----------

It's a Saturday and the Haus is packed with people.

They're in the living room and Chowder's shoulder keeps knocking into Dex with his shoulder. He doesn't really mean to do it, but space is so limited that it keeps happening anyway. Around the third time, Dex takes a long tip of his beer and nudges him back. Chowder giggles and presses his arm against Dex's. Instead of knocking him back again, Dex let's it stay. Chowder doesn't pull away. He's only had half a Natty Light so far and doesn't want to admit it, but he's a little unsteady on his feet.

They're all in a circle: Him, Dex, a few girls from Chowder's astronomy class, and another guy from the same class, Jeremy. One of the girls, Veronica, is in the middle of telling a story about the improv troop she went to see the other day, when suddenly Nursey trips over his own two feet walking by and sends both himself and another girl crashing to the floor.

Veronica's story gets cut off mid-sentence and Nursey's solo cup spills whatever liquor he was drinking all over the floor. Hannah, the girl he tripped over, accidentally hits somebody else when she falls, and Dex and Chowder have to jump back to avoid becoming part of the train wreck. It's  a mess. Chowder looks over.

Dex is scowling. Nobody else is looking, but Dex is scowling and Chowder can definitely see the fangs peaking from under his lip. It is very, very hard to ignore that.

Dex at least catches himself quickly, some kind of realization on his face and then the fangs are gone. They only showed for a second, and Chowder was looking for it, kind of, so he doesn't think anybody else would really notice.

Nursey is already on his feet, apologizing to Hannah while Veronica runs to get some napkins. Jeremy is staring at Chowder. Dex is right there, snapping at Nursey, but Jeremy is staring at Chowder because he saw it and he knows Chowder did too.  

Chowder freezes. He pushes through the crowd to find the backdoor and walks out. Jeremy follows.

There's nobody on the back porch for once and the first breath of open air feels more like a sucker punch. If he had a drink in his hand at some point, he's lost it now. Jeremy starts speaking before the backdoor even fully shuts.

"He's a vampire," Jeremy says, something like comprehension dawning on his face. Chowder's hands feel clammy. "Your teammate is a vampire."

"No." Chowder shakes his head emphatically, but his voice comes out weird and full of stutters.

He's drunk. He's drunk and freaking out because he thinks Jeremy might be right and someone else saying it out loud makes it more real. Everything is Not Good.

"He is, isn't he?" Jeremy says again. "That guy— Dex. He's a vampire."

His voice is getting louder with each passing accusation, more and more sure with himself. The noise of the kegster is so loud behind them that it almost drowns out Jeremy's voice, but the words still hit Chowder like a baseball bat. The air leaves his lungs in a rush.

"Holy shit," Jeremy says, oblivious to the way Chowder's stomach is sinking in to his shoes. "I can't believe it. I know Samwell is a liberal school and all, but don't they have a better screening process than this? How could they just let freaks like that in to this school?"

Chowder can practically feel the blood draining from his face. Jeremy shakes his head.

"Disgusting," he spits. He digs around in his pocket like he's looking for his phone, swinging his beer can with the other hand. "I can't believe he's gone unnoticed for this long. Freaks like that should be locked up, you know? For the safety of everyone. They're just animals. They should just be put down—"

The distance from the back porch to the grass is three steps high, maybe. One second Jeremy is there, ugly and triumphant, and the next he's sprawled out on the grass, unmoving.

 _I pushed him,_ Chowder thinks. _I pushed him._

He knows he must have. Jeremy was drinking, sure, but he wasn't so drunk he would suddenly fall over, and Chowder's fingertips are tingling from the way they pressed against the thin material of Jeremy's shirt.

The porch is about two feet off the ground. There's no way anybody could actually be hurt from the fall. Chowder's seen Nursey trip down the steps a million times without even bruising.

He stands there for a minute, looking down at Jeremy's body sprawled in the grass, willing it to move. It doesn't.

Something sour and awful crawls up Chowder's throat.

 _I pushed him_ , he thinks again.

Out loud he says, "Oh my god."

The sound of his own voice startles him and in an instant he's at Jeremy's side.

There's a party going on behind him, and Chowder is checking on the guy he may have accidentally killed because he accused one of his friends of being a vampire. His hands don't shake when he presses his fingers to Jeremy's neck, but he feels a little hysterical anyway. Chowder takes a breath. Holds it.

There's a pulse. There's a pulse, and now that he's closer, he can see the rise and fall of Jeremy's chest in the moonlight, the in-and-out of regular breaths.

He's not dead. He's not dead, which means Chowder didn't just kill a guy, but Jeremy isn't waking up and _that_ also means he probably hit his head when he fell, which is still Not Good. Did he hit a rock? Did his head clip on something else? It's too dark to tell. Chowder is very grateful he is a little not sober, even though that's probably what got him here in the first place. He's pretty sure Sober Chowder would be freaking out even more than Tipsy Chowder is.

Okay. Okay. This is. Really bad, actually. He's not entirely sure what to do.

The guilt of just knocking a man out and possibly giving him brain damage ( _don'tfreakoutdon'tfreakout_ ) is outweighed only very slightly by the reassurance that Jeremy was going to report Dex or hurt him or, if he was wrong, at the very least damage Dex's reputation and maybe get his scholarship revoked. All of which are terrible, awful things. Not that hurting someone isn't also terrible and awful. But at least now Chowder has time to. To. To think, at least. To think.

He thinks he's going to throw up.

He swallows it down, because now is _not_ the time, and if he throws up all over Jeremy that's only going to make everything worse. It's gross and he _feels_ gross and the whole situation is gross. Oh, man.

Normally when Chowder is worried or freaking out, he goes to Bitty, because Bitty is smart and kind and always knows how to make him feel better. But he thinks telling Bitty about this right now is also a bad idea. He's has had enough of bad ideas for one night already.

The only person who Chowder could go to right now would be, well. Dex. Dex, who may or may not be a vampire, who Chowder just knocked a guy out for. Who probably would not take kindly to the fact Chowder knocked a guy out for him, because that makes the vampire thing look bad either way and probably implicates Dex in the crime there somehow.

The thing is, if Chowder is right, then that's. Wow. And maybe Dex will freak out about Chowder knowing about it, but at least he'll get some kind of warning if Jeremy wakes up and calls the police. Maybe make a plan or something.

And if Chowder is wrong, then Dex might think he's a freak forever, but he'll tell Chowder what to do about the unconscious guy on their lawn. Hopefully.

He's going to leave Jeremy in the grass. For now, at least. He's on his side and people pass out at kegsters all the time and anyone passing by will probably just think he's another drunk douche. Not for long, but for now, which Chowder can work with. He's pretty sure he's gonna be suspended or go to jail for assault tonight, but Jeremy seems okay ( _for now_ ) and first things first, Dex needs to know.

Chowder has no idea how he's going to explain anything. But Dex needs to know.

He stands up. Slowly. Hops up the porch steps. Pauses in front of the door. Deep breath. Opens the door. Enters the Haus. Beyoncé is blasting from someone's stereo. No one is looking at him. Bitty is talking to Jack in one of the corner nooks.

He looks away. He's not going to throw up. He's not.

It feels like a million years before he finds Dex in the kitchen, nursing a beer by the oven and seemingly trying very hard not to catch anyone's eye. For some reason, Nursey isn't at Dex's shoulder, ruffling his hair or making quips that make Dex's face go red, which is weird because Nursey loves to tease Dex when they're drinking. Chowder considers it a miracle.

There's a few other people in the kitchen, but they're all preoccupied with each other. Dex's eyes roam the walls, the floors, and then Chowder's shoes. They work their way up until he's actually looking Chowder in the face and Dex only startles a little. Dex tips the neck of his beer at him and Chowder shuffles forward.

He looks so obvious, he knows, rubbing his one arm nervously and glancing at the girls on the other side of the room periodically to make sure they don't come in to listening range. They don't.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Dex says when they're close enough to be heard over the music. He's teasing, but there's an underlying layer to it that makes Chowder rock on the balls of his feet. He looks at the floor and thinks of the flash of white in Dex's mouth when he yawns.

"Dex—"

His voice catches. He can't do this.

Dex raises an eyebrow. "What?"

He's shaking. He knows he's shaking, can feel it down to his bones, but he physically _can't stop_. He's trembling and Dex is looking at him and there's no way Dex doesn't notice it. There's no way anybody else looking at him doesn't notice it, and if they notice, they'll ask, and if they ask, Chowder will have to tell the truth.

He opens his mouth to say _I'm so sorry_ or _I did something really bad,_ but he chokes on the _I_ sound and that's all that comes out. Dex's face drops then, really looking at Chowder, taking him in, and if Chowder can't say it, he's going to show it. So he grabs Dex's hand and tugs him forward, until Chowder is awkwardly backing out of the kitchen and Dex is gracelessly following. His hand isn't cold, but it's not warm either. Nobody looks at them when Chowder opens the backdoor.

There's still nobody outside when they get there, despite the large population of drunk college students practically spilling out of the Haus, and it makes Chowder want to cry. He almost wishes someone went outside before them, almost wishes he were caught already because he's done something terrible and he's never gone to confession, doesn't know how to do it.

But there's Dex, who followed without protesting and is looking at Chowder like he's is the only thing worth paying attention to, both of them bathed in the dingy porch light in the Haus's shitty backyard instead of cracking jokes in the kitchen like they should be. It loosens something in his throat.

"Chowder?" Dex asks, voice softer now that the pounding beat of Ke$ha's _Tik Tok_ isn't surrounding them with the oppressive power of a wet blanket. "What's up?"

Something has loosened in Chowder's throat, but it's not all the way undone. He gestures off to the side and for the first time Dex turns and sees the body on the grass, just as Chowder left it.  The light doesn't quite illuminate him. Anybody looking around the corner of the house from the street would probably mistake Jeremy for a garbage bag. Dex just blinks.

"That's what's wrong?" Dex asks, looking at Jeremy, who hadn't moved since Chowder last saw him. Dex's freckles stand out even more under the porch light. "You want me to find Shitty and get this guy out of here?"

Chowder shakes his head, lips pressed tight together. Dex looks at him. Really looks.

"Chowder," Dex says and _oh_ , his voice is so serious now. "Did this guy try something?"

Chowder opens his mouth. Closes it. He doesn't want to look Dex in the eye, even though Dex is trying so hard to keep eye contact. It's hard.

"Did this guy hurt you?"

Chowder shakes his head and this time, he finds some of his voice.

"No, not me. It's—" He falters, again. Pathetic. But Dex is just watching him, waiting patiently and Chowder owes him this. "Are you a vampire?"

It's obviously not what Dex expected _at all_ because the redhead reels back so fast it makes Chowder's head spin. Even Chowder is surprised at himself for asking.

_"What?"_

"I'm sorry!" It comes out instantly, too fast, too jumbled together. "I'm sorry! It's just, I thought, maybe, you know, and that's okay, I wasn't going to say anything, but then Jeremy kept asking questions and I didn't know, and he started freaking out and it freaked _me_ out and I'm sorry, I didn't know, I didn't know!"

Dex blinks again. Unfreezes. The world wobbles under Chowder's feet.

"Chowder, you need to breathe, okay?" Dex grabs his shoulders, which feel very thin under Dex's hands, even though Chowder is not small at all. He can't tell if Dex is shaking too or if it's just him. "Take a deep breath. Hold it."

He does. Chowder takes a deep breath and holds it in his lungs for maybe a second before it rushes out of him with a laugh. Here Dex is trying to calm him down when Chowder is the one who just accused him of being a _vampire_. He takes back his earlier wish and hopes everyone else stays inside, even though they're both clearly visible from the windows.

Dex cups Chowder's cheek with his hand. His palm is a little cooler than he would normally expect, but not deathly cold, and it actually feels a nice against Chowder's too warm face. Comforting. Chowder takes a breath again. He holds it for real this time and lets it out, nice and slow. The shaking subsides, at least a little.

"Okay," Dex says. He doesn't take his hand away from Chowder's face. "Good. Do you want to try talking again?"

Chowder nods.

"It was just." He swallows. He tries to go slow. "I didn't know if I was just seeing things or not, but Jeremy—that guy on the ground—thought you were, and then he started freaking out and he looked like he was gonna report you and stuff and. And even if it's not true, I know that can ruin people's lives and stuff, so then _I_ freaked out, and then I guess I pushed him, and he's knocked out now, I guess, but he'll wake up, and if he does then I didn't want you to be surprised and I'm so _sorry_."

"Okay," Dex says.  He squeeze's Chowder shoulder and then lets go. "Okay, just. Give me a second."

Chowder does. Dex hops off the porch and crouches by Jeremy's side, looking closely. At one point he reached out like he was going to actually touch Jeremy, but then he curled his palm back to his side instead. After a minute he looks back up at Chowder. Out of the porch light, Dex's face is shadowed, but Chowder can still picture the placement of his freckles in the dark.

"Nobody saw you push him?"

"I don't think so?" Nobody had been in the yard when they were talking, at least. If anyone had come out after it, they had snuck back inside pretty quick, and Chowder had been too busy not throwing up to see them.

"And you're sure he's okay?"

"I don't know," Chowder admits. "I checked him and he's breathing and stuff. But I didn't look at his head or if he was bleeding or anything." Which he absolutely should have done. Oh no. He should have checked. What if he's bleeding to death and it's too dark to see? Oh man.

It's Dex's turn to take a deep breath now. He pushes the air out through his nose.

"Okay," he says. "This is gonna be fine."

He almost wants to laugh again because that's not true, even if it's not funny at all.

"I'm serious," Dex says. "It's fine. This is fine."

Chowder feels like he might be shaking again. He doesn't know if Dex can see, but something must clearly show on his face because Dex drops his beer bottle on the grass and climbs back on to the porch. He wraps his arm around Chowder's shoulder and pulls him in, stiff and awkward, like Dex has never done this before and doesn't really know how. But it's the thought that counts and Chowder feels bad for the way he melts in to Dex's side, how much he's relying on Dex to help with his mistake.

"Listen," Dex says. His breath catches the side of Chowder's ear. Chowder wonders if anybody is looking outside right now and what it looks like to them. "I'm going to get Shitty, okay? I'm going to say this guy was blackout drunk and rambling to himself and that I saw him fall while he was out here. Alone. That maybe we should call someone to check him out. Alright?"

Chowder nods. The fabric of Dex's shirt rubs against his cheek. "Okay. Uh. What should I do?"

"Take a break," Dex tells him. "Go sit down somewhere and take a breather. I'll take care of it. I'll find you when I'm done, okay?"

Dex makes it sound so simple. It doesn't feel like it should be so cut and dry, but Chowder nods again anyway. His voice isn't even hoarse when he speaks. "Okay."

Dex doesn't let go immediately. He pulls Chowder a little closer, grips him a little tighter against his side, and Chowder takes another deep breath, nose pressed against the top of Dex's shoulder. Dex ruffles the top of Chowder's head and Chowder wants to relax with the familiarity of it, the routine. Like they aren't discussing how to best dispose of a guy.

"Alright," Dex says once the moment has passed. "I'll find you in a bit."

Chowder stumbles inside. He doesn't watch the door to make sure, but he knows Dex must follow after a moment.

Maybe he could find Bitty or Nursey or even Jack, but Chowder doesn't know what he would say to them. He doesn't know how to keep himself from spilling out everywhere. There are enough bodies pressed together that the Haus feels claustrophobic, so Chowder avoids looking up when he thinks he sees someone he knows, instead makes his way to the upstairs bathroom.

Nobody is there when Chowder makes it. Another miracle. He's been using up all his luck tonight.

He looks pale in the bathroom mirror, so Chowder splashes his face with cold water and drinks what he can cup in his hands. The water makes him feel a little better, but he's still kind of freaking out, wondering whether or not Shitty will believe that Jeremy "just happened" to fall and if he's really okay.

Chowder's never really tried to hurt someone before. Not off the ice, anyway. Certainly not because they were accusing one of his friends of being a vampire.

He hangs out in the bathroom until he's sure he's not on verge of having some kind of freak out anymore and then creeps back downstairs. He doesn't want word to spread that someone is hogging the bathroom, and it's good to be in an accessible place for Dex to find him anyway.

Dex does find him after about five minutes of Chowder standing in the living room aimlessly. Nobody else has come up to him yet, and the crowd is thick enough still that he hasn't seen anybody he knows until Dex finds him first.

When Dex steps close, he grabs Chowder's shoulder again and leans down to talk in his ear. "That guy went home. He's fine."

All at once Chowder relaxes. It doesn't feel real. "How'd you do it?"

"Shook him," Dex says simply. "That guy was drunk enough that I'm pretty sure he would have passed out pretty soon anyway. He didn't seem to remember going outside. Shitty called him a cab and threw him in."

Chowder is overwhelmingly, amazingly grateful. He's also very aware of the fact Dex never acknowledged whether or not he was a vampire. He's pretty sure he knows the answer. He's just not entirely sure what to do with that information.

Chowder teeters on the brink of it for a moment, of should-I-should-I-not, before ultimately deciding at the last second to keep his mouth shut. He's caused enough trouble tonight. So instead he says, "I'm really sorry," and "Thank you," and as he takes a step backwards, unsure of where to go, it's Dex who says, "You were right."

It makes Chowder freeze. Someone bumps in to his elbow, but Chowder doesn't see them because he's too busy looking at Dex, who is staring at the floor. The Haus is very crowded. Very full of people who could be listening.

"What?" Chowder says, because Dex can't be saying what he thinks he's saying.

Dex's face shifts, and he looks at war with himself for a moment before pointing toward the front door. He starts to move and in a reversal of earlier, all Chowder can do is follow.

It's cool outside. The autumn breeze is finally setting in and the wind nips at Chowder's cheeks when he steps out the front door. There are more people here, more partiers nursing their booze and relaxing on the steps and Chowder finds himself following Dex further and further up the street, until the only company left is a few garbage cans and the streetlight overhead.

They stop when the Haus is a few minutes behind them. Dex doesn't speak up again until Chowder has shifted his weight for the third time.

"You were right," Dex says again, looking somewhere past Chowder's head. "About earlier. About whether or not I was... You know."

"Oh," is all Chowder can say. It feels taboo to talk about this, especially out here in the open, despite the deserted streets.

Chowder has never lied to himself about vampires; he does know they're just people. It's just kind of hard turning "different people" into "people Chowder knows personally."

Dex shoves his hands in his pockets. "Are you gonna freak out now or what?"

"Oh," Chowder says again. Then, "Oh! No! Uh. I mean. You don't drink people blood without permission, do you?"

"Duh," Dex says.

"Then okay."

Both of Dex's eyebrows shoot up at once. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Chowder says. "That's fine. I kind of knew, I guess. I just didn't really know for sure? But it's totally fine."

"You're pretty calm about this," Dex points out. "Like, more than a regular person normally is."

Chowder shrugs and fakes a relaxed grin. "I already had a crisis today, and that's enough for me."

There's a pause. A breeze rolls by between them and the air cuts through Chowder's sweatshirt. Even though he doesn't shiver, Dex still steps closer anyway, seemingly unthinking. Chowder lets him.

"I won't tell anyone, you know," Chowder adds, because it feels necessary. Dex shoots him a look.

"Yeah," he drawls. "I picked up on that."

Of course he had. As though Jeremy weren't evidence enough.

"Well, this is anticlimactic," Dex mutters to himself. Chowder doesn't know what he was expecting. He doesn't know what he himself was expecting either. "I guess. We should go back then? Unless you have any last second, awkward questions to ask."

Chowder thinks about Dex. About the lazy afternoons spent with him in the living room or lying on the bed together. How Dex's hand had felt in his own.

Chowder has already had one crisis today, so he figures this is a good a time as any.

"Just one," he says. And then he pecks Dex right on the cheek.

It's very chaste for a kiss, but Chowder doesn't know if Dex even wants this or not, or how mouth kissing works with the whole fang thing, so he figures sticking to the cheek is best. By the time Chowder pulls back, Dex has already placed his fingertips over the phantom outline of where Chowder's lips had been.

A beat passes and then, like his body is making up for lost time, Dex's face lights up like a fire truck. His cheeks are nearly as bright as the luminescent bulb overhead.  Dex swallows.

"Okay," he says dryly. He swallows again. "Okay. That was. A good question."

Chowder glances between Dex and the dark street behind him. He wonders if anyone has noticed that they're missing yet. "Do you... want to head back?"

Dex nods, a little too fast. Chowder smiles and turns around. It was worth a shot. As weirdly as this night is going, it honestly could have gone a lot worse, so he's grateful for what he's gotten so far. He'd really like to lie down. And one of Bitty's pies.

Something grazes the back of Chowder's hand and he turns. Dex way too focused on the line of sight ahead of him to really be seeing anything, but his knuckles press against Chowder's again. Tentatively, Chowder interlaces their fingers, glancing between their hands and Dex's face all the while.

Somehow, Dex's cheeks turn even brighter at the contact. But he doesn't pull away.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/
> 
> Feel free to hit me up there or leave a comment below!


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